


Ice Hot.

by duaa



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Morally Neutral Logic | Logan Sanders, POV Second Person, and, are virgil, is logan, okay, so listen listen, so ya, the man the myth the legend, the reader - Freeform, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duaa/pseuds/duaa
Summary: They say many things about him. You know many things about him.So what do you believe?
Kudos: 5





	Ice Hot.

**Author's Note:**

> kinda abstract-esque lmk how it f l o w s

Blue eyes. Piercing. Sharp. You think they look into your soul, only because you already know he laughs about your secrets. Scoffs at how you try to avoid the inevitable, watching you crash and burn from the sidelines. He doesn't smile, only grins in a static way, lips slowly stretching to reveal blindingly white teeth. You know what they say, they say he killed a man. You feel like you're a dead man walking. He never laughs, only mocking you with a monotonous 'hah' - he does chuckle sometimes, antagonistic, taunting you as you squirm and writhe. 

He's made of sharp lines and striking angles. Planar. Linear. His neck doesn't curve, his shoulders don't slope, his eyebrows don't arch, his hair doesn't curl. He's ninety degrees, a stinging twenty three degrees, obtuse and acute. He doesn't move around, doesn't flounder. He's fluid and graceful, movements blending into each other, mixing. He's cold to touch, freezing. Red cold. Burning through you, burning towards you. He's cool and calm, collected. 

He watches you panic for a moment, always waiting. Pauses. Then he's moving towards you, icy hands burning through your chest, menthol cool. You breath. He withdraws, watching you flail. Returning. You breath again. 

His eyes sometimes change. Orange. Maniacal. He doesn't look into your soul, he just sneers at you. Announces your secrets. Your eyes never truly meet his. He becomes less smooth, jagged lines. He's diamond sharp, glinting in his own light. They say he's dead. You know he isn't. He laughs, acid tears falling down his cheeks, ruining your writing. He's white hot rage. Straight from the fire. He never stops, never waits. He does what he wants and he wants everything. 

They say your eyes are brown. Warm. Soft. They say you look pleasant. Smooth curves and round edges. You laugh like you have no secrets, and you cry like everyone knows them. They say you love a murderer. You don't know which one is.

**Author's Note:**

> lmk if you see a typo! hope you like it ❤️💕


End file.
